Little (Trenton Security Book 2)

by J. M. Dabney

  “Interesting kid.”

  He glanced down at Poe as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. He shook his head as he watched Trevor hand out condoms and cards with a list of shelters and clinics.

  “He’s been out here a long time.”

  Trevor stopped outside a rundown diner.

  “How did you meet him?”

  Trevor answered, “I tried to fuck him.”

  “You didn’t try too hard.”

  “I was thirteen and hungry, your van looked warm, and you smelled of weed, so I didn’t think I had to worry about you being a cop.” Trevor flipped him off and pulled open the diner door.

  “Are all your friends weird?”

  “No, well, yeah, okay, they’re all weird in some way. I like being the normal one.”

  Poe stopped, pivoted on his toes and tilted his head all the way back. He glared as the man rolled his lips between his teeth, but that didn’t hide the tilted corners of Poe’s mouth.

  “I don’t like you.”

  Poe’s mouth pulled into a wide grin and the man raised onto his toes. “Aw, Harmon, you know you love me.”

  The kiss was too quick, but Poe pulled away before he had a chance to bring him flush and deepen the caress.

  Goddammit, he cursed as Poe left him on the sidewalk. Before he had time to panic he went to join Poe and Trevor, they were already looking over menus and talking quietly. He approached the table.

  “I ordered you an apple juice. They don’t serve energy drinks.”

  They ordered enough food for twenty people, and Trevor sipped his drink until the waitress disappeared.

  “So, what do you need?”

  “Carrington.”

  “The doc with a Messiah Complex, but that’s typical of megalomaniacs with type A personalities. What’s he done now?”

  “Done now?”

  “Dude, some of the kids have been showing up lately damn near catatonic. No one knows shit and getting information out of them is impossible. They’re so fucking fried I don’t think they know their own names. Sonja showed up a few months ago. Pupils so blown I took her to the ER to see if she’d OD’d. The drug test came back negative, but she was on something.”

  “If you had to guess?”

  “Antipsychotics, I don’t know, a lot of the kids I keep an eye on have mental health or addiction problems. I’ve seen the effect of just about every med out there. Whatever it was, it was strong as fuck. People swear every day by experimental treatments. They just want to be normal and some of the kids…they want something different. I didn’t want to sell my ass or give old dude’s blowjobs to survive, but we do what we gotta do.”

  He’d told Trevor plenty of times he had nothing to be ashamed of, but he knew it didn’t help. Looking back on his past, he knew some of that shit still shaped who he was. No amount of forgiveness could wash it all away.

  Poe must have sensed his unease and leaned into his side, rubbed his thigh in a soothing motion.

  “You did good for yourself, Little. How did you snag the cutie?”

  “He kidnapped me.”

  “Oh fuck, I gotta hear this one.”

  “You started it.” He turned to smile up at the waitress as she arrived at the table with an overflowing tray.

  Once they were situated with their orders and drinks were refilled, Poe started their story.

  “I was in a grocery store aisle looking at weight loss—”

  He growled at the thought his man needed to lose a pound. If people were happy why did everyone expect them to change? He loved Poe’s softness—the way the man felt in his arms.

  “As I was saying, I was starving, exhausted and sore from the sadist known as my personal trainer. All of sudden I’m knocked to the ground. This strange guy says come with me and the next thing I know I’m in his van. Come to find out he kidnapped me because his best friend said when he found his person it would feel like lightning struck.”

  Trevor sighed. “That’s so romantic.”

  “I swear, Harmon, your friends are weird.”

  “Like I said, I like being the normal one.”

  Trevor choked as the man laughed and he felt no pity. Trevor cleared his throat. “Little was a fixer on the streets. We had issues we always came to him. We knew he was working freelance for the cops and a few other things, but Little was the man to trust. He was like us. Been there. Done that. Nothing’s changed.”

  He ignored the compliments and focused on his food. He didn’t think he’d done all that much. When he was out in the cold, he’d wished for someone to have his back. Someone to be there when he didn’t have a place to run. He didn’t spend much time there anymore, but all the kids knew they could call him anytime with no questions asked. It wasn’t much, but it turned out to be something he could do.

  “You going after Carrington?”

  “A job came my boss’ way, and he needed someone who can blend. If it turns out he’s using street kids to test his so-called miracle drugs we need to take him down.”

  “Big name, man, he’s on speed dial for every cop who comes across a tweaked-out kid. Heard a few rumors cops make commissions.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised. Won’t be the first time I went toe-to-toe with the police.”

  “Yeah, man, but this is different. There’s a lot of money floating around.”

  “You’re not telling me something.”

  “It’s just rumors, nothing concrete. You know how people like to talk.”

  “Doesn’t mean it ain’t true.”

  “Carrington likes to play with the kids. Doesn’t like them too young, but he’s offering them salvation and some of us will pay whatever price. Heard he gets a bit rough. Can’t bring you anyone who can corroborate, though.”

  “So, not only is he performing experiments, he’s molesting them as well.” Poe’s voice was soft.

  He glanced to find his man pissed off.

  “Not much recourse for us out there. Some of us are lucky to get off the streets. Find a nice steady job. Get set up in a long-term shelter that’ll help us with housing, but the ones that are fucked-up they take the scraps.”

  He understood that. He’d been one of the kids that took the scraps. He had a job and a home, didn’t put out for a wad of cash, but he’d exchanged the monetary benefits for the illusion of affection. Broken people would do anything for love—a moment of belonging—to forget that they lived a nightmare. He feared his voice would break, so he didn’t respond.

  “I won’t pretend to understand. My family is loving. They didn’t bat an eye when I came out. What that doctor is doing needs to stop.”

  “It does, but in the wrongness of it, there’s option. Even if the option is false we can pretend for a minute it’s real. It’s a hot meal. A warm bed. Medicine to make all the mental bullshit go away. One kid didn’t know what was real or imagined. He just wanted the voices to stop telling him to harm others and himself. To be promised that it’ll all go away, wouldn’t you jump at that chance?”

  They lapsed into silence as they finished eating, and he didn’t miss that Trevor kept glancing at his phone. The man’s soft, innocent face pulled tighter into a grimace.

  “I can take care of it.”

  “I made my choice, Little.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind.”

  “You’ll be the first one I call.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He didn’t feel right leaving at that, but he couldn’t force Trevor to accept his help. Not every decision in life could be categorized into black and white columns—right or wrong. Life wasn’t so concrete or easy. He asked some more questions, and Trevor hung out for another hour before the kid made his excuses. He forced himself to relax until Trevor was gone.

  “So, you got a bad feeling?”

  How could Poe pick up on his emotions so easily after only months of being friends?

  “About a year ago, I was out here hanging with some of the kids. Checking in. Dropping off som
e supplies. Condoms. Lube. Shuttling some to the clinic. If I’m not here to do it, Trevor reminds them to get tested at least every six months. Trevor had a regular. Seemed like a decent guy. Trevor said the guy just wanted his company more than he wanted the sex. I don’t have an issue with age differences. Bull and Gregory, Livingston and Fielding. I don’t see a problem, but this guy seemed too nice.”

  “How can someone be too nice?”

  “You’re paying someone to fuck. Essentially, you’re a product, and some of the clients treat you like one too. Something disposable. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, and not everyone’s experience is bad. Although, too many times on the street it can go to shit.

  “Yeah, some people like the companionship. If you’re lucky, you get dinner and conversation before they demand the sex.”

  “Harmon, is that—”

  “Can we talk about it somewhere else?”

  In his gut, he knew the conversation would have to happen at some point. Part of him hoped that it never did, but honesty was a big thing. Lily always told him she and Damon would never have worked without it. He paid the ticket and took Poe’s hand.

  He had parked his bike at the office Linus kept in the city. They had a bit of a walk.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to know.”

  “My mother surrendered her rights when I was five, maybe six. I don’t remember much. All I do remember is going from a crowded group home to a series of foster homes. They said I had an unnatural attachment. Fuck, all I could remember was I loved hugs and affection. I just wanted to be near someone.” He refused to look at Poe. Just held the man’s smaller hand as they walked along like they were a normal couple. Poe had gotten a bad deal when the man got stuck with him.

  “Come on, keep going.”

  “When I found out the last foster family I was with was sending me back because it seemed I wasn’t a good fit, I ran. It was a small city. Poor as fuck. I was thirteen when I started living on the streets. Sometimes I’d get picked up and taken back, but mainly I learned how to hide. Something else I learned, sex made me forget. It wasn’t the type of affection I wanted, but it served a purpose.”

  “Touch and companionship?”

  “I was wanted. Men, women, men liked to fuck me and women wanted to be fucked by me. I was big for my age. Tall and muscular enough they all thought I was at least seventeen. If you don’t want to, ya know, be with me because of what I did, I won’t blame you.”

  “Shut up, Harmon, you survived, and if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been snatched by you, and that’s one thing I won’t regret. Besides, I’m looking forward to telling my parents and sister how we met.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Already in the plan.” Poe paused and pulled him to a stop. “Harmon, you may be a tad crazy and more than a little bit of a slob, but what this is between us I won’t ever regret it. You like me as I am and I’ll respect you in the same way. You are who you are, Harmon, the bad and the good made you”—Poe poked his chest—“who you are. I wish you hadn’t gone through what you did. But I won’t shame you for it. It’s in the past.”

  “Not the distant past, though. You remember Fielding’s stalker?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The guy came up to me in a bar. I fucked him because I was flattered and jealous. I knew nothing more than he was some guy at Brawlers, but he saw me as a weak link…his way in.”

  “Again, not going to shame you. People have one-night stands. Sexual partners they’ll never see again. What someone does with their own body isn’t my business. I do blame the men and women who did take advantage of teenage you. I’ve had a few temporary partners. Blind dates that turned into one night of fucking. I’d be a hypocrite if I made you feel bad for getting off.”

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “Harmon, my sweet crazy man, I’ll always be good to you.”

  “I should’ve taken you somewhere more romantic. Candlelight and all that.”

  “I’m not really the candlelight and all that sort of person. Heavy subjects but I enjoyed dinner with you and a friend of yours.”

  “You’re too nice.”

  “No, I’m not and just to prove it, we’re going to my parents’ place.”

  “They’ll be asleep, it’s late.”

  “Nope, not asleep, they’re about ready to come home from a charity event. We’re crashing in the guest house.”

  “Charity event. Guesthouse. That is so not my scene.”

  “Too damn bad. I texted my mom while you got ready earlier and told her I was bringing my boyfriend by.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Harmon Little, you’re meeting my parents. Get over it. Now, let me tell you what I plan to do when I have you all to myself later.”

  He groaned as his cock hardened as Poe whispered about all the things the small man wanted to do to him. He didn’t know how he made it back to the garage to get his bike. It took the edge off his nervousness but didn’t in anyway alleviate it completely. Poe wanted him to meet the parents. He’d never met parents before, hell, he’d never had a partner before. This was a nightmare scenario. What if Poe’s family didn’t like him? Would Poe break up with him for someone more appropriate?

  This was a fucking nightmare.

  Poe’s Man was Going to Puke

  His first true attempt at being an understanding boyfriend or partner or whatever the hell he turned into was an epic failure. Harmon, his poor man, was completely losing his shit. He was an asshole for finding that comical and that was never part of his personality until he met Harmon. Harmon sweated profusely. If he wasn’t mistaken, the man was on the border of a full-blown panic attack.

  He rubbed Harmon’s lower back in a soothing rhythm as he opened the front door. He nudged Harmon inside and kicked the door shut.

  “Anybody home,” he called out.

  “Solomon, you finally got here.”

  Salome Poe glided into the room in a beautiful silver evening gown. He rushed toward his mother as he smiled at her. He hugged her tight around her slender waist as she squeezed him tight, rocking him back and forth.

  “Mom, you’re looking gorgeous as always.”

  He stepped back and took her hands to hold her arms out to the side. He noticed his dad stood in the doorway of the sitting room. Six-feet-three inches of imposing man in a tuxedo. He resisted the urge to shake his head as he compared himself to his parents and his sister who thankfully wasn’t there. Harmon wouldn’t survive a meeting with his sister, Sandra, yet.

  “Flattery won’t get you out of being fussed at for six months of no visits.”

  “I know, I’m a horrible son. How haven’t you disowned me yet?”

  “You’re less of a pain in the ass than your sister.”

  He and his sister were almost eight years apart in age. He’d done his best at the annoying baby brother act, and she’d threatened to kill him thousands of times. Sandra had their parents to herself for a long time, and she hadn’t hidden her dismay at having to share them with an annoying sibling. Even worse that it was a brother. They’d grown closer when he’d hit his teens, and she’d been off to college. Then when he’d come out, she’d been all about setting him up on dates.

  “I’m so snitching you out.”

  “Introduce me to your gentleman.” Salome moved to his side and slid her arm around his.

  He led her to where Harmon stood. The big man had his hands shoved into his pockets and focused on the toes of his scuffed boots.

  “Mom, this is Harmon Little, Harmon?” Harmon didn’t look up. “Harmon.” He raised his hand to press his fingertips under Harmon’s scruffy chin and lifted his gaze. He smiled reassuringly at Harmon. “Harmon, this is my mom, Salome.”

  “Pretty name.”

  “Thank you, Harmon. Honey, you don’t have to be nervous.”

  He’d worship his mother forever as she instantly moved away from him and enveloped Harmon. His mom was a
few inches shorter than Harmon at almost six-foot.

  “I was so happy when Solomon called to say he was bringing his boyfriend home. Come on and meet my husband.”

  He retreated to let his mom take over. If Harmon saw his parents were normal people, no matter the trappings, he hoped Harmon would relax.

  “Kyler, this is Harmon.”

  “How ya doing, son, nice to meet ya.” His dad’s thick Texan accent made him remember the story of how his parents met. Salome had fallen in lust with a twenty-year-old ranch hand who worked for her college best friend’s father. She’d sworn the man was going to be hers no matter what she had to do.

  His dad held out his hand and thankfully didn’t react when it took Harmon a minute to respond.

  “Nice to meet you, sir.”’

  “No sir around here, Harmon, want a drink?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “I think we have some sodas or Solomon told me you liked apple juice. I picked some up earlier.”

  “That would be great.”

  “Well, you gentlemen go have a seat, and I’ll get you your juice.”

  “I don’t want to be trouble.”

  “It’s a walk to the kitchen, Harmon.”

  He retook possession of his boyfriend as his mom disappeared then they followed his dad into the sitting room. He pushed Harmon down on one of the sofas. Shortly, everyone was set up with drinks and Harmon seemed to be braced for the worst.

  “What is it you do, Harmon?” his dad asked.

  Salome was sitting beside her husband and curled against his side. His parents didn’t care if they were in public or alone, they never tempered their love for each other. He’d always wanted a relationship like theirs.

  “I work for a company called Trenton Security. We specialize in bodyguard services, and we freelance for a bail bondman’s business as Bail Enforcement Agents. I mostly work as a surveillance expert.”

  “Sounds like an exciting but dangerous life.”